


but we're more than free

by Marishna



Series: Wanna fuck [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Derek's Loft, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Evolved Derek Hale, Future Fic, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Quiet, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 19:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11042592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: “Wanna fuck?”Derek’s pre-programmed, automatic response should have been somewhere between a snerk of derision and a stern, “no”,Instead, he replied, “Yeah, okay.”





	but we're more than free

**Author's Note:**

> I started this almost a month ago and wasn't sure if I'd be able to go back to it with the same feeling I had when I started it (which is generally the reason why a lot of the stuff I write is as short-lived as it is, if I can't capture the same momentum/feeling it's difficult for me to get back into it without making a mess out of what I already had and enjoyed). But it worked out and I'm glad I was able to finish at least one thing I've started recently that's waiting for continued inspiration.
> 
> To day 29, everyone!

Derek shifted sleepily in his armchair, basking in the warmth of the sun through the large loft windows as he read and re-read the same paragraph in the book he held, unable to focus. Stiles sat on the couch with his laptop open but he hadn’t typed a single thing in the past ten minutes, content instead to stare into nothingness. The annoyance Derek would once feel at having someone in his personal space without purpose no longer surfaced (well, not often and usually not with Stiles) and instead he was relaxed and at ease in the stillness.

Stiles shut his laptop softly and put it down beside him on the couch.

“Wanna fuck?”

Derek’s pre-programmed, automatic response should have been somewhere between a snerk of derision and a stern, “no”,

Instead, he replied, “Yeah, okay.”

Derek could scent Stiles’ surprise, betrayed by the barest arch of one of his eyebrows that wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary to anyone else watching their exchange. Since Stiles’ return from college, there was a simmering tension between them that neither of them commented on but also didn’t bother to hide. Derek noticed weeks ago that his body instinctively attuned itself to where Stiles was standing or sitting and he found himself actively agreeing with most of Stiles’ input and suggestions during pack meetings. Stiles lingered too long with him behind the rest of the pack, watched Derek openly, and didn’t bother to hide his constant low-grade arousal around him.

That Stiles was also spending almost his entire summer in Derek’s loft said a lot, too.

Stiles was fully an adult and back in Beacon Hills after graduation from Berkeley. Apparently, nepotism only did so much in their town and a part-time job with the library for the summer was all Stiles could swing right after graduation. He usually worked a few mornings a week and every Saturday until 5 pm and the rest of the time was hanging out in Derek’s loft, regardless of whether Derek was there or not. 

Despite Stiles’ constant presence, they didn’t really interact much. Sure, Stiles being around at all meant Derek had to socialize more than he was used to but for Stiles, it must have been like going from a rave at an amusement park to finals week at the library in terms of noise and stimulation, or a lack thereof.

Stiles originally invaded Derek's space with the intention of cataloging his book collection, or what remained of it after the fire. Derek knew Peter had some books of his own stashed somewhere but also knew his uncle would only deign to give them access if and when it worked for him.

There was enough for Stiles to work with at first though, and soon Derek's days were filled with the sounds of flipping pages and _tap tap tap_ s from Stiles’ laptop. It didn't take him long to get through the bulk of Derek's meager collection and Stiles started drawing out his task by engaging Derek in brief conversations. 

At first, it was a question here and there about some of the topics Stiles discovered in the books or a translation issue. He was genuinely attentive when Derek's answers veered into stories about his family and what he remembered about his alpha mother while growing up.

One afternoon Derek and Stiles spent an entire afternoon drinking beer and talking about their relatives, giving Derek an opportunity to laugh about memories long-since forgotten and buried. It was only later when he climbed into bed and his mind settled that he realized Stiles didn't pick up a single book that day.

After that Stiles gave up all pretenses of being at Derek’s just to work. 

Then today, on a random Tuesday afternoon in June, Stiles decided it was time to take the next step. And Derek agreed.

Derek got up from his chair, abandoning his book without bothering to mark his spot, and crowded Stiles onto his back on the couch but hovered over him with his knees astride Stiles’ thighs to give him time and space to push back if none of this was truly real. Stiles rose to meet his lips.

Their first kiss was slow and simple, a mere meeting of the mouths if anyone were there to watch them. But Derek could hear Stiles’ soft gasp before their lips touched and his own ones trembling from the barest touch. Stiles tried to push himself up further with one hand propping him up from behind while the other curled around Derek’s ear and brushed through the soft ends of his hair. 

Derek’s jeans were bunched around his upper thighs and he could feel Stiles straining against his sinking couch so he backed off and stood up. Stiles tried to follow him and a bereft whimper escaped him. Derek grinned at him and offered his hand to help him off the couch. 

“I don’t really want to do this on a couch, do you?” Derek asked. Stiles accepted his hand as he got to his feet and shook his head. 

Derek pulled him in for another soft kiss and then was tugging him toward the stairs. He pushed Stiles ahead of him because of instincts or to be able to stare at his ass or any number of other excuses he didn’t feel the need to make. When they reached the top Stiles stopped dead so Derek was stuck a couple stairs down.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s so nice up here!” Stiles exclaimed as he looked around. Derek flushed and grinned shyly as Stiles took in the newly painted open space that was bright and clean. It was Derek’s pet project when he officially came back to Beacon Hills and wanted to establish his home again. None of the pack had been upstairs yet, though so Stiles was the first and his reaction was worth it.

Stiles whipped around to face Derek who was still stuck on the stairs and standing about a foot lower. “Know what I think I might like best of all?”

“What?” Derek asked as Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck.

“That your bed is already on the floor. I wanna wreck it,” he murmured into Derek’s ear.

He barely had a moment to take a breath and then Derek was picking him up by the waist, urging Stiles to wrap his legs around Derek’s midsection so he could be carried to the aforementioned bed. Derek dropped him to the mattress, super thick with a pillowtop, and the highest thread count sheets and softest blankets he could find. Derek figured if he was going to finally live, he was going to live with a few luxuries. 

Stiles barely bounced as he dropped down and then was covered by Derek’s seeking mouth and curious hands. Stiles arched up as Derek’s mouth kissed a hot line down his temple, across his neck and buried into the crook there so he could suck softly at his collarbone. He reached out blindly to Derek and grappled with his tank top to push it up so Stiles could run his hands up and down his bare chest, tangling his fingers in Derek’s chest hair and then down to the band of his jeans. 

Stiles shifted so Derek rested between his spread legs and slipped his hands down the back of Derek’s jeans and underwear to grab his ass. Stiles ground up against Derek’s cock, growing as a thick line through all the fabric. 

“Take them off,” Stiles rasped and shifted again against Derek’s hardon. He didn’t have to ask twice as Derek reared back on his knees and stripped his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. Stiles watched Derek’s hurried striptease with a fond smile that turned lecherous when he stood up to push his pants and underwear down, kicking them away.

Derek stood still for a long moment, letting Stiles get his fill of looking. They hadn’t discussed exactly what they were doing or what this was so it this was the only opportunity Derek had to make an impression on Stiles he was going to take it. It didn’t take long before Stiles was reaching out for Derek to rejoin him on the bed.

Before he did he reached down and tugged at the bottom of Stiles’ t-shirt. Stiles slowly lifted his arms over his head and allowed Derek to pull it off for him, then moved his hands so Derek could unbutton his pants. Stiles avoided Derek’s eyes as he pulled them down, then Stiles’ boxers. Derek could feel the sudden insecurity rolling off Stiles, the only hesitation shown so far.

Derek got to his knees and buried his face in Stiles’ midsection, breathing in deeply and cataloging the changes in his scent, the taste of him thick on Derek’s tongue. Stiles buried his fingers in Derek’s hair and held him there as he caught his breath and courage again. 

“Okay,” Stiles whispered a minute or so later and Derek looked up at him from under his lashes.

“We don’t have to,” he said easily.

“Oh, we’re doing this,” Stiles insisted and Derek had to laugh at that because he was so damn cocky even as he was silently freaking out.

Derek climbed on the bed and urged Stiles to lay back in the middle of the bed. Against the white duvet Stiles’ skin looked tan and dusky and despite the large overhead fan lazily spinning to circulate the air, there was already a sheen of sweat covering Stiles’ skin. Derek ducked his head to lick into the hollow of Stiles’ throat and was rewarded with the concentrated scent of him there and a strangled moan.

Derek shifted his hips and rocked his cock across the groove of Stiles’ hip. He felt precome smear across Stiles’ skin and his wolf let out a satisfied rumble that radiated through his bones. Stiles looked up at him with a surprised look that quickly shifted to delight when he realized the sound was a pleased one.

“How offended would you be if I compared you to a cat right now?” he asked. Derek gave him a look and Stiles’ loud laugh echoed off the high ceilings. 

It broke the tension between them though, and then Stiles had his head back in the game. He tilted his hips and got some leverage to flip Derek onto his back, slithering on top of him so their cocks rubbed against each other. Stiles leaned down and kissed Derek slowly while his tongue caressed Derek’s lips, asking for access. Derek opened up to him and moaned while Stiles matched his tongue’s movements with his hips, undulating on top of Derek’s body. 

Derek flung his arm out to his bedside table and with Stiles’ help shuffling up the bed a bit more, their cocks shifting together all the while, he was able to reach it and pull out a bottle of lube Derek quickly squirted some into his hand and closed his fingers around both their cocks, making them even slicker as the lube mixed with their precome. 

“We’re so fucking good at this together,” Stiles groaned before ducking to kiss Derek again. Derek felt the weight of Stiles’ words but it didn’t bother him, whether true or not. They just _were_ , much like this moment. 

It felt right.

Stiles dragged his hand down to interlace through Derek’s as he stroked them together. They were both moving against each other, spreading the mess between them and all over their skin without care. Sweat droplets formed on Stiles’ chest and Derek licked his lips at the thought of running his tongue over each smooth plane of Stiles’ body. Maybe Stiles would let Derek rim him.

“Yes,” Stiles gasped and his cock jumped in their hands. That’s how Derek realized he wasn’t just thinking what he wanted to do to Stiles, but out loud and with great fervor.

“Christ, Stiles. You’re gonna kill me,” Derek groaned.

“At least it’ll be a happy death,” Stiles grinned back and reached out to flick one of Derek’s nipples with his free hand.

The sting sang through Derek’s bones and blood and within seconds he came, tensing up as he shot all over his abs. Stiles held on long enough to watch him come, then let himself go and jerked on Derek’s body, too. Immediately Derek pulled Stiles’ panting self down to lay on top of him, sealing them together with their come and sweat. Derek didn’t care that it was too hot for them to cuddle together, not when Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and laid his head down with his ear pressed over Derek’s thumping heart. 

He thought they dozed together for a little while because when Derek started paying attention beyond his bed he noticed the sun changed positions and his room was getting warmer. He could smell the stink of them all over their skin and in his sheets. He knew it would be a while before he washed them after this. Depending, anyway.

He didn’t want to ask, though and so stayed stock still, paralyzed by what would happen once they let each other go.

“How big is your shower?” Stiles mumbled from his position still spread out over Derek.

“Big enough, I guess?” Derek replied in a confused tone.

Stiles looked up with his chin on Derek’s chest. “Big enough for two?” 

Derek’s heart jumped and he nodded slowly with understanding. “I think we’ll fit. Might have to squeeze.”

“I hope so,” Stiles grinned back. “Wanna fuck again?”


End file.
